Manuel drove her home without asking any questions, and she wasn’t certain anything she could say would make any sense anyway. Santos hadn’t moved, and she dropped the folder on the patio table. “He isn’t a member, but he was casually dressed as though he intended to take his yacht out for a cruise. I didn’t want to grill the secretary about the security at the marina, but could someone get in to sabotage your boat?”
Santos stared at her, his gaze dark. “If he’d been there to sabotage the boat, he would have been dressed in work clothes as though he had a right to be there. Besides, no one would expect me to go sailing with my knee torn up as badly as it is. I think it’s more likely he followed you. You weren’t actually in the marina, were you?”
Libby felt sick. “No, I’d just walked that far and sat on one of the benches by the parking lot to eat the orange I’d taken. He just walked up and asked if he could sit with me. I didn’t want any company and left.”
Santos picked up the photo to study it again. “There has to be something behind this we just can’t see. I’ve never cheated anyone at anything, so there’s no one carrying a grudge or I’d know about it. There are crazy fans, and the artist could be one of them. Then we have Victoria and this guy with the protestors. Did he give you his name?”
“No, and I didn’t care what his was until I got back here and recognized him in the photo. I shouldn’t have missed the opportunity to ask him.” Restless, she paced beside him on the sandy patio tile.
“Javier may get it tomorrow night at the protestors’ meeting. Would you like to eat lunch out here?”
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Eat anyway. I can’t have you fainting the next time something odd happens here, which will probably be within the hour.”
“They’re way past odd,” she argued.
Santos caught her hand to pull her close and lowered his voice. “I can’t think of a way to use the Hispano-Suiza with my knee in a brace. The closet with my suits would work as a substitute for the elevator if we push everything back a couple of feet.”
Libb
y had to laugh. “I thought the security company planned to have men working in the house this afternoon.”
Santos’s smile turned sly. “Yes, they will, but I don’t do threesomes.”
“What a shame.” When he looked badly startled, she leaned over to kiss him. “I’m teasing you. I don’t do threesomes either, but let’s wait until all the workmen have left for the day.”
Santos shrugged. “If we must.”
“Won’t worrying that Mrs. Lopez might discover what we’re doing be enough excitement for you?”
He looked sincerely sorry. “It will have to be.”
With Manuel’s help, Santos held on to the banister and hopped up the front stairs. When he reached the top, he thanked Manuel and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. Libby followed him into the hallway and waited for the chauffeur to leave by the back staircase. When they were certain the household staff was busy elsewhere, Santos unlocked the closet door.
Libby pulled the light string, entered and shoved the gorgeous trajes de luces back on both poles. “Is this enough space for you?” she whispered.
“It’s perfect.” He closed the door and locked it from inside. He leaned his crutches against the wall and, facing her, got a grip on both clothes poles. “Take off everything.”
She unbuttoned his shorts. “We’re pretending this is an elevator, remember? If someone presses the call button, I can’t step out naked.” She spread light kisses along his jaw. “It smells like your intoxicating scent in here.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “Will I lose my appeal when other men are able to buy it?”
She yanked the string to turn out the light and enveloped the small room in darkness deeper than a moonless night. She slid her hands under his polo shirt and raked her nails lightly across his abs. “I very seriously doubt it.” She unzipped his shorts to free his cock and stroked the smooth tip. “Everything about you is appealing.”
“Take you hair down,” he whispered.
She did it with one hand without releasing him and shook her head. He caught her mouth for a luscious kiss, and she moved close to trap his cock against her belly. “Sneaking sex in an elevator is supposed to be fast and primal, isn’t it?”
He brushed his lips over hers. “This elevator isn’t going anywhere, so there’s no rush. Take off your sweater.”
She heard someone moving down the hall and froze, but they walked right on by. Santos licked her ear, and she muffled a giggle against his chest. They were so close, and brushing against him filled her with a warming desire that pooled low in her belly. No longer caring what game they were playing, she pulled off her sweater, unzipped her jeans and stepped out of them.
He tossed his shirt aside. “Take off everything,” he urged.
She complied, almost. “I never take off my bra.”
“Why not?” He let go of the pole with his left hand to strain her hair through his fingers.